Rue's Story
by Roza Ish
Summary: What if Rue had won the Games? Gone on the Victory tour? Became the Mockingjay? It all starts now...  Rated T just in case
1. Never Ending Scars

_ "Ladies and gentlemen, I am pleased to present the victor of the Seventy-fourth Hunger Games! The first ever twelve-year-old victor, Rue Clark! I give you- the female tribute of District Eleven!" And they're playing the applause from the Capitol, and the Anthem, and everything is around me and surrounding me, but all I can think of is the body lying there by the lake. My ally and best friend. My last opponent. Katniss Everdeen. _

I awake with a bolt. Another nightmare. Another sleepless night. So many of these have passed since I left the Arena that I've long since lost count. Probably the number lies somewhere in the hundreds by now. I don't try going back to sleep. I know if I do that the nightmares will just come back. It's better to stay awake then to face that dream again. It isn't always that one. Sometimes I dream that I shoved the nightlock into Katniss's mouth. Once I dreamed that Katniss's little sister, Prim, came and buried me with a shovel. I shiver and pull my robe closer around my body. Leaning out the window, I try to remember life before the Arena. Try to remember the empty bellies and the long work hours. But I can't. The Arena has changed all that. My mother says I've grown-up, but that isn't true. I'm just scared for life. And it isn't the kind of scar that heals quickly. I don't know when it will heal. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe never.

I expect the latter.

~...~…~

When I come down for breakfast, my mother eyes me suspiciously. It's pretty obvious I haven't slept. But she doesn't say anything, because the Littles (my younger brothers and sisters) are here for breakfast too. Mom and I have already worked out a system that's pretty easy to follow. We just don't talk about it. We don't want the Littles to be scared. Actually, that isn't true. What is true is that Mom and I have grown way far apart since I came back. I don't need her anymore. At least, not as much as I used to. And since the Arena was what made me so… _'Independent'_, Mom thinks that not talking about it will make my 'independantness' go away. She's wrong, but I go along with it because I hate to see her sad. So I do what I can to make her happy.

I smile as Bell, my youngest sister, crawls in. I pick her up and set her in my lap. She snuggles into my shoulder. I kiss her head and turn my attention to my mother.

"Anything I can do?" I ask her as freely as possible, trying to keep the polite stiffness out of my voice. They may be young, but the Littles catch everything. She smiles at me.

"Yes, actually. If you could scramble the eggs, that would be great." She suggests, all formal. Only it's more like a command. But I nod and go to the frying pan, one of the huge luxuries that came with my victory house. I like the largeness of the house, and the beauty and the technology, but it feels empty and cold, even when people and warmth are in it.

Long story short, I hate it.

But only I know that. I don't want to sound ungrateful. After all there is so much to be grateful for.

You don't know how weird that sounds.

~…~…~


	2. The Wailing of the Bell

The night comes too slowly. The day draws out as everyone leaves. Mother and Dad to the fields, along with Sabrina, who's nine, Tony, who's seven, and even Cora, the five-year-old. During harvest everyone works. But harvest will be over soon. Then comes the victory tour. I've been dreading it ever since I won the Games. Now its almost here. Great. More stress, more nightmares, more Games. And how am I supposed to get by the fact that I have to stare down at the families of children I've killed? And then there's Katniss's family to deal with. I try not to think of the victory tours. Except it's impossible not to think of them. So I try to not think of anything. I stare out into space.

I watch the sun slowly set. Look at the torches being lit to signal stopping time. See my family filter in to my house. Eat dinner. And suddenly I realize how quiet the evening is. Too quiet. Dad, who works at a different field then Mother, finally sets his fork down.

"Alright, what happened today?"

Mother stutters. "What? What do you-"

"Come on, Lena, you can't hide it forever!"

"I don't know what your talking about, Harry!"

" Lena! I know what it's like, just tell me!" Dad stands up, fists clenched.

"Harry! Not in front of the children!" Mother is standing now too.

"Lena, what happened today? Tell me. Tell me now." Dad's voice changes to a roar. My food lies on my plate, forgotten as I watch the argument unfold.

Mother loses it and yells too. "They shot ten little boys, Harry! Couldn't have been more than six or seven! Shot 'em because they weren't walking right on the paths! And they didn't just shot 'em! They made sure it wasn't quick and easy and painless, Harry! They… they… Oh, God, Harry, how do you think it felt watching that and knowing my children were in that danger? Hmmm? You don't even have any idea what it was like. So I don't want to hear another word from you on that! And I don't ever want you to act like you know what it was like, Harry, because you don't!"

Dad stares at mother. We all do. This is a side of her I've never seen. Then Mabele, the second youngest, and older sibling only to Bell, starts to cry at the outburst of sound that rarely occurs in out relatively quiet home. Mabele's full name is Mabele Hatua Clark. I don't know what my parents were thinking when they named him, but it means Forward Step in some ancient language that my parents found old books on. Come to think of it, they probably would have been arrested-or worse- if anyone found those books. Killed like the ten little boys that were shot today. The flashing thought brings me back to the present.

Bell, unsure of what to do, only knowing of following her older siblings emotions, begins to wail. I pick her up in my arms and try to comfort both her and my three-year-old brother, all the while glaring at Mother and Dad. The grumble and make excuses of being tired and washing the dishes and such and such. And they go off to bed still grumbling, still making excuses, leaving me with five wailing children.

This night is off to a GREAT start. 


	3. The Memories of Before

_I am tangled hopelessly in the net of woven rope that seems to glisten in a million colors. The more I struggle, the tighter the rope binds me, singing to me a song of death and decay. As I try to fight the music, I call out for help. My voice wavers and floats, seeming a thousand time softer than ever before. I scream louder and louder at the top of my lungs, but my voice only becomes quieter and quieter. And then I hear a spear whistling through the air, and everything becomes slow motion, and the song sings to me and my coming death, and the black spear comes and comes and becomes darkness, changing the world to black. And I struggle with the net, sure that no one will come, sure I will die with the Blackness of the spear all around me. And then in the darkness there is light, spinning towards me and the whistling spear and the darkness. And I try to tell the light to run, but it comes towards me even faster and I close my eyes, waiting for the darkness to engulf me, but suddenly the light barrels by me and takes the darkness with it, and the darkness is gone, and so is the light, and all I am left with is nothingness._

I wake up gasping. My nightmare was even more gruesome than usual. I slide out of bed, trying to avoid the memories that follow the dream like a shadow in bright sunlight. But the memories engulf me like glue, sticking to me and never letting go. I was lucky for a while because they weren't stuck so firmly and I could shake them off a little, but now they've caught up to me, and something tells me I won't get off so easy this time.

I begin to pace my small room. I feel like I need air. Staying in here will surly suffocate me. But most of my family members are light sleepers, so going down the hall, even with my light steps, isn't an option. Most people, at this point, would give up. Who needs air anyway? But I'm not one of those 'most people'. I go to my window to survey the scene below me. A line of old apple trees stretches from my window to the tall stone fence that surrounds our backyard- 'for the victors protection'- otherwise known as Prison Wall by young children. I almost laugh at the absurdity. This is too easy! With a leap and a swing, I am hanging from an out stretched limb of the first old apple tree. I smile as I remember the words "_Orchards, huh? So that must be how you can fly around the trees like you've got wings."_ And then I remember that Katniss said it and that she is gone and that I killed her and for a moment I'm frozen in the air, forgetting how to breath, how to move, how to live as I am filled with the memory of Katniss, her rare smiles, her shooting an arrow, her Mockingjay pin, her face in the sky disappearing from the world forever.

But then the moment is over and I begin to swing from tree to tree over the Wall then I climb down a tree on the other side. The grass feels good under my bare feet. I can't stand going out in those tight-knit shoes from the Capitol. But since before the Games I only had bare feet, the fancy dress shoes are all I have now. So usually I don't go out much at all. I don't know how long it's been since I have gone outside out on my own will. But now that I'm out here, I can't believe I haven't gone out before now. I laugh at the beauty of the tree's and the swaying grasses and the star-swept sky. I'm so overwhelmed at everything that I have no idea where to go first. Then the obvious answer comes to me and I laugh again at the simpleness of it.

My Mockingjay friends! In the fields! They'll have missed me! I race through the tall grasses and wheat fields, past the vegetable 'garden' and into the orchards. Hardly pausing for breath, I scale up at tree with a few Mockingjay's in it. I'm so excited at recapturing a fragment of my old life that I can hardly hold still enough to sing my little four-note tune. But I do and I wait for the Mockingjays to sing it back to me, like they always do. But they don't. Franticly, I sing again, louder this time, praying for them to sing it back. But the response is the same utter silence as before. I can't believe it. They've forgotten me. They don't remember me at all. I guess I shouldn't be too surprised. After all, forgetting something is always easier than remembering it.

I slump down on my branch, defeated.


	4. Nobody Falls Asleep on a Branch

_**Just a note to all you readers, my friend wrote this story. Thanks for R&Ring!**_

The sun.

That's the first thing I'm aware of. I almost fall out of the branch I fell asleep in. Wait a minute. I fell asleep on a _branch_? Something isn't right in this picture.

Then I remember about the Mockingjay's. I must've been so tired that I fell asleep on a branch. Wow. I can't believe I actually fell asleep on a branch. Who does that? I almost laugh and then suddenly I'm remembering Katniss and the memories are to overwhelming to bear this time. They swallow me whole.

~…~…~

_There is a commotion below me, loud and hard, heavy footsteps and lighter ones. Coughing and raspy voices that call to each other. Careers. I scale up a tree, immediately taking in my surroundings. A branch to my left over hangs to another tree, going away from the sound of the Careers. I scale up the branch, about to make the jump, when I notice something else. A big shape, about the size of raccoon, hangs above me. Fear shoots through me like fire. Tracker jackers. Their all over at home. But I know from home that they'll be out and about soon. I could leave them to the Careers… And I almost do. But then I see Katniss, the girl from 12, scaling up the tree, nestling into her sleeping bag. She looks pretty bad. I can't leave her here to die. Staring at her, trying to figure out what I can do, I notice a knife in her backpack. Of course! When she finally notices me, I point a hand to the nest and I am off._

~…~…~

I gasp, bowled over, as the next memories hit me.

~…~…~

_ I follow her after that, like a lost sheep. I don't know why. I track her like a hunter and a deer, though I am no hunter. Then one day, she spots me. It is my fault. The woods offer much concealment. I could hide anywhere and still track my deer. But no. I had to go closer, had to feel human warmth again. So I go to the bushes and stick my boot toe out. And she see's me. And then she smiles. And it's like seeing the sun come out from a cloud of dark gray ash. She says, _

_ "You know, they aren't the only ones who can form alliances." And I step out and look at her, and we orchestrate an alliance in that one glance. And I look at her, and I know that I am home. _

_~…~…~_

I am smiling and crying and laughing and sobbing all at the same time. And I DO fall out of the branch. But I catch onto another one and haul myself up. Then, right then, another memory begins.

~…~…~

_The sun is hot. The air is humid and we are running. Katniss and I and the boy from District 2. He has a spear and we are running. And Katniss had a bow and I have a knife but there is no time for anything except running. And the spear comes towards and I feel like I'm frozen in place, and the spear is coming, and now I know that I am dead if I cannot run, and I brace myself, but then Katniss comes and her arrow drives deep into the boy's neck and she takes the spear in her stomach. And I am yelling, screaming, crying, falling to the ground, sobbing as night falls. And I hold Katniss's hand as she dies and last thing she's says to me is this:_

_ "YOU are the Mockingjay, Rue. I love you. Goodbye." And then she put the pin in my hand and she died right as the anthem started. And I watched her face shine in the sky then disappear forever. _

~…~…~

And I am sobbing so much that I can't see a thing. And then I fall right out of the tree. Stupid branch.


	5. A Face in the Sky

_**Thanks LemonyGoodness69 and Munirabella for R&Ring, you guy's rock!**_

I get back to the house around nine. I couldn't bring myself to go home after that last memory hit me. So I sat in the field for a long time, just staring at the trees and the dead grasses and the Mockingjay's. It felt strange to be in the field with no one working around me. But it's a Sunday, and after harvest is over, so everyone gets a day off. During the winter months we package food and store seeds. Then in spring and summer, we plant the seeds and care for them. And then comes harvest. Full circle. It's weird how simple and circular life can be. Or used to be.

So there I was, sitting in the fields, thinking about it, when I felt this tiny pinprick of cold. And then two more. Three more. Suddenly I was surrounded by the tiny things. I looked up in wonder at the cold, dancing snowflakes. I watched their ballet until my dark eyelashes turned pure white and my hands went numb. And even then, I waited a bit longer before dragging myself to the house, trying to witness as much of the world at possible before I was locked into my cell again.

The world is alive, even in the snow. Birds still flit here and there, people still call to one another, tree's still rustle and shake, sending snow down on anyone who unfortunate enough to walk under them at that particular moment.

Strangely, the house is lit and glowing, a candle in the darkness. This doesn't seem right, as my family uses very little energy. How could we, after being without it for so long? The light shines brighter as I come closer, blinding me. And voices, like peas in the spring, grow, too. Are Mother and Dad having another fight? Are the Little's okay? Mother and Dad wouldn't hurt them, would they? I can't believe that they would, but the thought is enough to make me come racing into the house, hoping the Littles will greet me, tearstained yet unharmed. But the only thing that meets me at the door is the blinding flash of a Capitol camera. And the Capitol people being in my house can only mean one thing.

The Victory Tour has begun.

~…~…~

My mother nervously rubs her hands together. "There's our little princess, right in time for breakfast," We eat breakfast at dawn. I'm very late for our meal. But I smile and nod.

"Yes, I just went on a walk to see the snow." I say with my best innocent face. "I didn't mean to keep you waiting. I'm so sorry if I did." That's enough for everyone to smile and nod and engulf me with words of praise and forgiveness. And I smile and nod along with them, trying to incase the terror growing inside me. Then the Capitol people rush me away into a prepared room. Delijha, our district escort, with her silvery blue face tattoos and neon blue hair that shines even from a distance, and Soranor, my sparkly, shimmery stylist with an obsession for jewels, push the doors closed and get to work. My prep team is close behind them. Rayana, the one with bright yellow hair and the highest voice I've ever heard, gasps in fright when she sees me.

"Look at this!" she squeaks at my face. "What am I supposed to do with _this _hairy thing!"

I shrug uncomfortably. Flocum raises his purple eyebrow. "Her eyebrows are hardly the problem. But this hair! Have you brushed it at all since we left? Hmmm?"

I open my mouth to say _no, I haven't. Why would I? _When I realize that Flocum didn't want an answer. And what impression would my answer make on them anyway? It isn't like they care. I'm about to tune myself out when I realize that Calirina, the quietest prep team member, has asked me a question.

" How's your talent coming along, Rue?" She says with an impassive face. I wish she hadn't asked. Delijha jumps right on it.

" Oh yes, Rue. How _is_ that talent of yours?" She looks at me expectantly. I put on a fake smile.

" Good." That wasn't the answer she wanted, but I don't care. She looks at me primly, but there's menace behind the gaze.

"Don't want to show us anything new?"

" Nope, " I say through the whirling bodies of my prep team.

She frowns. " Well, save it for the Capitol, yes?" I nod vigorously. The last thing I want to do is make President Snow angry. Already that Gamemakers are angry at me, because I told Katniss that we should both eat the berries she calls nightlock, and then neither of us would win. Only the Gamemakers stopped us before we could and then Katniss died and… and… And nothing! I tell myself harshly. _Don't think it, don't think it, don't think it. _I try to focus on Calirina's huge blackish bluish flower barrette that clips her lime green hair back. But it's exactly the same color at nightlock and I find myself shaking. And then I am remembering…

~…~…~

_Darkness. Sun is setting, slowly, so slowly. Katniss lies by me, a spear in her stomach. Deep, but not so deep that death is easy. I remember now, the other time. After she blew up the supplies. I was tangled in a net, hopelessly, and the boy from District 1 threw a spear. And it almost hit my stomach. Only Katniss's quick thinking saved me. She dived forward and pushed me forward so the spear only grazed the top of my leg. And I survived._

_ But now it was my turn. My turn to save her. Or at least give her to death. Give her to sleep. But if I had saved her, life would be so much sweeter. Instead, I froze, while she melted like ice in hot sun. And then I begged the sun to set, so maybe I could stop the melting, so maybe I could save the ice, the snow, from turning to desert. But it was already happening. And now it is happening so much slower, so slow, too slow. Like music slowing down, drawing each note out, not wanting to end, still wanting to light the world with it's beauty. But fading, dying, ending. And I did not save her. I only made her life, the last bits of it, harder to live. And then I told her that I couldn't live without her. So I took some of the tiny night-sky colored berries and I put three in her hand and three in mine. And then I said:_

"_Eat. On three." And she nodded. She trusted me. "One." Maybe I was wrong. "Two." Maybe they didn't care if we died. "Three." Too late now. I lifted the berries to my mouth. Then the frantic trumpets. Spat them out. Turned to Katniss. But she was already gone. On the ground. Eyes closed. Nightlock churning in her stomach. She had eaten them; I had not. She was dead, I was alive. A simple action had decided all of that. A lifting of a hand, a closing of a mouth. A chewing of the berries. Then, gone. Spirit, heart, life. Gone. And then there was me, standing there as the trumpets blasted. _

_Seeing Katniss's face shine above me in the sky for the last time._


	6. If I Hate

The first dress looks like it's made out of a million tiny sparkles too small to see, yet big enough to glimmer and gleam and catch the light. And the fabric melts into my body, swaying with me. My long, dark hair is braided into a single, loose braid that starts on the top of my head. I remember Katniss's hair in the opening ceremonies and scowl at Soranor's design. _Copycat,_ I think angrily_._ But the dress is so comfortable, so gorgeous, that I can hardly say anything bad about it. And it's the color of blue-green, like the sea, ever-changing as the light hits it. My fingers caress it.

" Beautiful, isn't it?" My mother says from behind me. I whirl around in shock, eyes automatically looking for a weapon. Just another example of how the Games have changed me. I force myself to stay calm.

"Yes. I love it. Thank you, Soranor. And you too," I say, nodding to my prep team. The two girls giggle. Flocum tries to give a dignified smile.

I turn my attention to Delijha. "Are we going?" I ask, hoping she'll say_ no, the_ _train broke down,_ or,_ no, we actually took your feelings into account and canceled the tours_ or something along those lines.

"No, not yet, we're waiting for Karsa," She sighs. "_Again_." Karsa is my dimwitted mentor. In her Games, she got shot in the head. It was at the end of the Games and her other competitor, this girl from Three, fell off a cliff. So Karsa won. But now she's… a bit strange in the head. She like a melody, but someone is playing all the wrong notes, turning something beautiful into something… ugly. I shudder. Karsa… she's… I don't know. You think you know her, but then she just… changes, right in front of our eyes. She's really slow, and either Delijha's scared of her or hates her or both. When they're together, they're lutes that are afraid to play together. One plays along the lines, the right notes, the classic tunes. Then the other plays with a wild, crazy, different touch. Both afraid to move to the other's level incase they cannot come back. Not knowing that levels don't matter. Levels, lines, are all that separate me from the other children my age. Actually, that isn't true. What separates me is the 17 slips of paper that had my name written on them in the huge glass bowl that was marked GIRL on the podium on reaping day. 17 slips. Complete luck. Yes, I'm the luckiest person alive. Hahaha. Not funny.

I nod. "Fine with me,"

" I wasn't asking you! "Delijha snaps in her high voice. Then she adds in a mutter, "Can't believe that girl even won her games. Not even smart enough to come at the right time!"

I turn on her. " What was that?"

"Nothing! Nothing, nothing at all,"

"You sure about that?"

"Yes, of course. I didn't say a thing!"

"Right. Sure,"

"You should have more faith, _Rue_,"

"I could say the same to you, Delijha. That's enough!" I snap to the prep team, who are adding last minute touches to the dress. They jump back. "Thank you."

Delijha shakes her frilly hair. "Oh, well. No matter. But really, Rue, you should work on your manners. I see that you are successfully getting over the barbarisms of your district. " She smiles sweetly.

I want to slap her.

Delijha isn't being sarcastic. That's really what she thinks. That's how all Capitol people act. It's infuriating, that their biggest worry is that their manners aren't perfect, while the rest of us battle starvation, whippings, sickness, and death. I've never before realized how much I hated the Capitol people. Anger and shallow resentment, even jealousy, yes, but hate, no. Frustration, dislike, annoyance. All of the above. But I've never experienced this much_ hate_ before. No. That's wrong. I did experience it once before. When Katniss died. No, before that. Right as Katniss was dying. The memory is small, but I am too tired to stop it from coming. Let it come. Let me remember.

_ A replay. A replay of the same memory as before. But seen from far away. Like I am a ghost. Watching the scene unfold. Zoom in one detail. The last part. The part where a small, dark girl holds an older girls hand as she dies. I vaguely recognize that the girl may be me. This is my memory? It seems impossible. But it does not matter now. I move closer to the two girls. I hear the older girl say, softly, like she wants no one to hear her,_

_ "Sing, Rue. Sing." _

_The little girl swallows hard. Opens her mouth. And starts to sing._

"_Deep in the meadow,_

_Under the willow,_

_A bed of grass,_

_A soft green pillow,_

_Lay down your head,_

_And close your eyes,_

_And when they open, _

_The sun will rise,"_

_I find myself singing along. Do I know this song?_

"_Here it's safe_

_And here it's warm,_

_And here the daisies guard _

_You from every harm,_

_Here your dreams are sweet,_

_And tomorrow brings them true,_

_Here is the place where I love you,"_

_The birds fall silent. The dark haired girl continues in a softer tone._

"_Deep in the meadow,_

_Hidden far away,_

_A cloak of leaves_

_A moonbeam ray_

_Forget your woes,_

_And let your troubles lay,_

_And when again its morning,_

_They'll wash away,"_

_I sense the song is nearing its end. The last verse is barely audible, but I can hear it just fine, as though I am the one singing it. But I'm not. _

_Right?_

"_Here it's safe, _

_and here its warm,_

_And here the daisies guard,_

_You from every harm,_

_And here your dreams are sweet, _

_And tomorrow brings them true,_

_Here is the place where I love you,_

_Here is the place where I love you…" _

_~…~…~_


	7. Authors Note VERY IMPORTANT!

**Hey guys. Sorry it's been so long but I completely forgot about this story. Oops. Thanks to The Phantom Mockingjay for bring it to my attention. And thanks to anyone else who reviewed! I know Katniss's death is kind of complicated, because I would write something, then get another idea, then add it on. So, to simplify it, I'm going to retell what happened.**

**Rue, Katniss and Cato were the last three tributes alive. For some unknown reason, Cato had caught up with them and was chasing them. Rue, being slower, was lagging behind just enough that Cato was able to throw a spear at her. Rue was basically frozen, so Katniss, ever the savior, jumped in front of Rue and at the same time shoots an arrow at Cato. Cato dies immediately, but Katniss still lingers for a few minutes. I'm going to cut out the nightlock part, so lets just move onto the part where Katniss dies in Rue's arms, and Rue sings to her the 'Deep in the Meadow' song before she dies (think Rue's death in the book but the parts are switched). **

**Okay. I think that pretty much sums it up. If any of you have any more questions, just tell me. Thanks! **

** ~Rosa Ish **


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